


Wait For Me

by nothinbetter



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, F/F, One Shot, World War II, cophine - Freeform, kinda x company au?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 09:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7430801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothinbetter/pseuds/nothinbetter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The World War II was happening and Delphine Cormier decided to put her medical knowledge to good use as a nurse in The Nursing Sisters, leaving a devastated Cosima Niehaus behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait For Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, I am known for not finishing my stories (known by me)... This one is not originally cophine, I admit it! It was another fandom, but I tought it was very cophine, so why not (it was written three years ago). English is not my first language and I had to translate this story, so please be gentle about that, I did my best (also it's been a while I don't write in english)! It kinda looks like a X Company crossover, but, well... Just read it and enjoy! Criticism is nice.(Also, I'm not an expert on WWII)

The house was quiet. Very quiet.

Cosima was sitting in her armchair – strategically set up in a way she could see the entryway through the window – while she rubbed the strawberry lotion on her old and wrinkled hands.

The silence continues.

In all these years, she could affirm that the worst hasn’t been the news, the surpassing pain she felt, the empty future or past that haunted her. None of this compared to the deafening silence that hovered over the house after the incident. And it was still present.

Cosima breathes heavily and stares at the indicator on the cuckoo clock on the wall with the green wallpaper. The wall paper Delphine has chosen.

Delphine.

How long has it been? Two, three? Fifteen, twenty? Forty, fifty? It doesn’t matter, she stopped counting years ago. If it were five minutes or fifty years away from her lover, it was already torture. And she had to experience torture in the worst way. Nothing she could reveal would save Delphine. It was useless torture. Cosima got used to living alone, though. Truth be told, some months after the war, her sisters convinced her to live her life normally, like it was before. But Cosima Niehaus never loved anyone like she loved Delphine. She couldn’t get intimate with anyone else. Cosima would be Delphine’s forever. And Delphine would always belong to Cosima.

“Until death do us part” came before they expected.

A soft knock, although insistent, on the door woke Cosima up from her almost nap – in this age, she could barely stay awake more than two hours without at least a five minutes nap. She opened brown eyes that Delphine adored and praised so much and that now were kind of purplish around them because of the sleepless night. Something has stopped her from falling asleep and, each time she finally closed her eyes, her subconscious was flooded with images of her life with her lover.

_Anyway_ , she thought, _the door. Answer it_. Lately Cosima has been telling herself to do things or else she knew she would die. _Eat_ , she would say. “Drink.” “Sleep.” And even “breathe”. The only thing she didn’t forget were her medicines. Her memory only served for two things: remind her of Delphine and not forgetting the time to take the medicines.

Cosima got up with difficulty – her sisters suggested a nurse or something, but she refused. A nurse on her house would be unbearable.

Letting her thoughts aside again, she crossed the small space between her armchair and the doorway, supporting her body on the sideboard so she wouldn’t fall. Her business card, now that she was near the end, was a scowl.  The days when a smile never left her face were long gone.

Cosima couldn’t reach the peephole on the door. If Delphine was there, she would laugh, like she did every time that happened. She brushed a strand of gray hair out of her face and turned the doorknob. Outside, a young woman and a little girl were standing there. Who would it be now?

“If you’re selling something, I’m not interested,” Cosima said and started closing the door.

The woman put her hand on the door and stopped Cosima from completely closing it. It was an easy task, as the older woman didn’t have much strength anymore, and soon the door was open again. The young woman smiled, ran her fingers through her blond hair and smoothed out her dress before reaching out for a handshake.

“Are you Cosima Niehaus?” She asked with a soft voice that reminded her of Delphine. She wanted that woman out of there as fast as possible.

“It depends on who’s asking,” Cosima answered, not worrying a bit about the politeness her parents have taught. In fact, by then, she didn’t worry about anything else.

“My name’s Edith and this is my daughter Alice,” the woman spoke, pointing to herself and to the girl right next to her. “If I may, Mrs. Niehaus, I would like to give you something.”

Cosima grasped the doorframe and for a moment thought of telling the woman to go away so she could go back to her rest, but something stopped her. She stepped back and gestured her head, showing that the woman and the girl could come in.

Edith waited until Cosima walked up to her armchair and sat only when the old lady pointed to the sofa nearby. That shouldn’t be so hard. As a matter of fact, when Edith got out of her own house with her daughter in tow, that same morning, she didn’t imagine she would cry so much.

The second Cosima cleared her throat was when Edith noticed she was daydreaming. Alice held her hand as she took in every detail of the living room, like she did every time she entered an unknown place.

“Well,” Edith started carefully. She had no clue on what would be that woman’s story, so she tried telling the news calmly, especially when it came to elderly people. “My father passed away some months ago, Mrs. Niehaus, and on his testament, or just a letter really, he said his last will was, if possible, that I delivered all the forgotten letters in the attic of his house.

“He was a mailman, but that was a long time ago. My father started delivering letters here in Toronto, he was only a boy, when the Great Depression happened, because his father lost his job and his mother had just given birth, so he really needed the money.

“During the World War II, he kept his job as mailman, because he really liked the whole thing. The fact is, Mrs. Niehaus, that some letters were mislaid before even arriving in Toronto, as you must have seen on TV or elsewhere. Only years later, when my father was about to retire, we received a package full of mislaid letters, almost all of them from the World War II. Dad’s friend, who worked on the government, sent him the package, knowing he would like to deliver all the letters personally, But he didn’t live enough to deliver all. This was his wish: that I finished what he started; delivering the rest of the letters.”

Cosima heard patiently what the woman had to say. The story was somehow heart touching and she almost started crying when Edith mentioned the World War II. According what the young woman said, Cosima guessed her name was on one of the letters. For the second time in less than fifteen minutes, Cosima wondered if she should tell the woman to go away.

“Do you have a letter for me?” Cosima asked.

“Yes, Mrs. Niehaus.” Edith opened the bag next to her and took a sheaf of letters tied up with a red string. She looked for the lady’s name among many receivers and, at last, she found the yellowish letter. “This one here has your name and this same address, but there’s no sender.”

Cosima shook her head, annoyed. She knew the woman had no fault and was just helping. But something made Cosima get mad easily over the new generations. She huffed. Even without a sender, she knew who had written the letter.

“Thank you,” Cosima murmured as she got up. Edith stood up and waited patiently as the lady walked up slowly to the door.

At the house entryway, Edith shook Cosima’s hand as she passed her by and nodded her head to say goodbye. Alice, the seven-year-old blonde girl, while she left the house, motioned for Cosima to duck down, since the height different between them, although not much, still was significant.

“You are very beautiful,” the child whispered on Cosima’s ear so nobody else could listen, even if her whisper could be heard from across the street.

Cosima was numb. Alice stepped back and joined her mother, holding her hand. When she recovered, Cosima straightened her back and looked at the guests outside her house.

“Thank you so much…” She frowned, trying to remember the girl’s name.

“Alice,” the child said as if she knew the old woman’s memory wasn’t so good.

“Alice. You have a very pretty name, Alice.” Cosima smiled, which caused a weird sensation. She didn’t remember when the last time she had smiled was. Alice raised her small hand and waved goodbye as she got in the car and left.

After Edith and Alice went away, Cosima closed the door with her free hand. She stared the dark wood in front of her without knowing what to do. The hand that held the letter grasped the paper as if her life depended on it. Cosima didn’t know if she had enough courage to open that letter and revive the worst moments of her existence with such intensity. Not seeing a choice – because Cosima Niehaus was a very curious person –, she got back to the armchair and looked at her mail.

The envelope was yellowish due to the passage of time. She turned the letter and read _Mademoiselle Niehaus_ written on Delphine’s elegant calligraphy. Beside it were some stamps of places she never visited and now wouldn’t anymore because of her age. Looking at her lover’s calligraphy, Cosima remembered those fateful years lovingly and sadly.

Delphine Cormier was born in France after the First World War, in 1921 – some months before Cosima Niehaus. Her parents moved to Canada so they could hopefully give a better life to their daughter. Cosima lived with her parents in the same house she was now standing, and was Delphine’s neighbour. Both grew up together, playing and going to the same places. As they got mature – as much mature as teenagers could get –, they were getting even closer, until they realized they were in love with each other. No one had to know, they said.

When the World War II came, in 1939, both were about to turn eighteen and to go to the university. Walking through the streets, Delphine saw a poster of The Nursing Sisters, asking for people to join in, since the war was happening and they needed people who would take care of the stricken soldiers. The blonde thought about it and got into a nursing course. But it was only two years later that The Nursing Sisters started desperately to look for new nurses, as there weren’t many war professionals in this area.

Delphine, now twenty years old, faked her birth certificate and got a fake degree – the nurses should be at least twenty-one and have a nursing degree. As soon as she told Cosima what she planned on doing, the brown-headed woman thought about putting Delphine in an asylum. However, Delphine’s mind was made up. She would save people in the World War II.

That being said, in a short while Delphine was getting ready to start the training and leave her home and, most important, to leave Cosima. No one knew how long she would be abroad; how long the war would last. Cosima followed Delphine to the port, where she would board to Europe. Cosima remembered this day as if it were today. She could see the blonde’s uniform perfectly. The beautiful blue fabric with several buttons on it and the white apron. Cosima also remembered Delphine’s last kiss before they left her house. Delphine had promised to come back to her arms as soon as possible.

Delphine’s father had to support his wife and Cosima, because they both couldn’t stop crying. It was the same thing when, months later, a letter came saying Delphine has gotten sick and they weren’t able to save her. The body was buried in France. Cosima travelled once to visit the grave, but the pain was so strong she swore she’s had a heart attack right next to her deceased lover. She never went back to that place.

Putting her thoughts aside for a brief moment, Cosima opened the envelope and took the paper from inside, noticing that the part where the paper folded was more yellowish than the rest.

Delphine had sent a few letters, but, according to the date on the corner of the page, this one was the newest; the last one she has sent before dying.

 

_August 27 th, 1944_

_Dearest Cosima,_

_I think it’s been a while since I last wrote to you, so here I am. First of all, I miss you very much. I won’t say I’d like you to be here, because I don’t. Instead, I’d like to be there with you. I hope you didn’t find someone to replace me, because I didn’t. Oh, I also hope you made some progress on that research you told me about on your last letter. You are meant to do great things, Cosima, I know that. Your name will be known on the scientific field one day, you’ll see._

_All the nurses here are adorable, which is good, because sometimes work gets tough. You wouldn’t believe the cases that come to us. I won’t describe them because a person so full of joy and life as yourself doesn’t deserve these horrible images. We heard some things on the radio and some soldiers say things are pretty bad in Germany and Japan. They say there is much worse than here. I can’t even imagine how it must be there, then._

_There’s a child here and I think you would love him. He escaped from a bomb with some injuries and was brought here to us. Everyone spoils him. His name is Hugo and he’s only three! When I go back, I will do everything I can to take him along. His mother passed away and an aunt was taking care of him. They brought her in, but we couldn’t save her. I’m really sorry for the kid. He’s very smart and sweet to end up in an orphanage._

_Now we’re in France, I’m really glad my parents taught me French. People ask me to translate things to them. Sometimes I look around and I feel at home somehow. I know I don’t remember a thing about France, but just being here is very nice, despite the war and all. In our free time – which rarely happens, but it still happens sometimes –, we went for a swim on a lake nearby. You should see it, Cosima! It’s beautiful! As soon as you’re in my arms, I’ll schedule a trip for Paris._

_You know, I don’t care anymore about what people will think of us. I’ve learnt that we have only one life to live and it is too short to waste it because of silly things. If I want to do something, I just do it. It’s best to regret it tomorrow than spend time thinking I didn’t do it. That’s why we’re getting married when I go back! (Or at least living like a married couple) This is not how I want to propose, calm down! I’m just asking you to be a little more patient. I know it’s hard to wait for someone who’s at war, but, please, Cosima, wait for me. If either way nothing works out, then you can move on with your life without me._

_Again, I miss you very much. I think about you every night before falling asleep and every morning when I wake up. In fact, knowing you’ll be waiting for me when I get home is the only thing that keeps me alive here. I can say that I live for you, Cosima. I live for you. And my life has never had a better meaning._

_I hope I will meet you as soon as possible. I love you in a unspeakable way. I still have the necklace you gave me. I think you don’t know it, but before travelling, I put a photograph of you inside of it, so I would remember your face every time I opened it. Not that I need a photo to remember you. Your face is printed in my mind as well as in my heart. You’re memorized by my whole body. I can feel your skin under my fingertips, your breath on my neck, your soft hair brushing my face, your warm feet against my cold ones, your lips against mine. But there’s a sensation I could never forget, and that’s your heartbeat under the palm of my hand, as if it beat for me only and I had it in my hands._

_I love you. Wait for me, I promise I’m going back._

_I promise._

_Yours truly,_

_Delphine._

As she finished reading the letter, Cosima read it again and again. Tears spilled from her eyes, made their way though her cheeks, her mouth and her chin to finally fall on her clothes and on the paper she was holding. The pain on her chest came back stronger as ever and she really thought she would die. For sure her elderly heart wouldn’t handle it this time. Delphine lived for her. She would propose. She would try bringing an orphan child so they could start a family. They would start a family. It was too much information to absorb at once. Damn disease that killed Delphine!

Cosima was sat in the armchair, reading parts of the letter and crying like a baby. Nothing could make her heart stop burning like it was burning now, except, maybe, Delphine. But that was impossible.

She put her hand over her heart and thought it was good the letter had arrived just now. Cosima tried to imagine how things would’ve been had it arrived in the correct order or even a little later Delphine’s death notice, and got to the conclusion that her suffering would’ve been a thousand times worse. The only comfort she had now was that her ending was near.

She’s lived her whole life for Delphine, too. When Delphine was gone, she took Cosima’s life along with her. The rest of her days were summed up on waiting for the inevitable – her death – to come.

After a while, Cosima’s sobs and tears slowed down and she calmed herself. There was no way to change the past. Soon she would be gone, she had to focus on that. Therefore, Cosima folded the paper and put it back in the envelope, placing it on the end table next to a photograph of Delphine. The only one Cosima kept around and allowed herself to stare at. The blonde was smiling to the camera, her blond hair in soft curls and the white starched blouse. Too bad the photo was black and white, because her eyes, to whoever saw the picture, would always be grayish. But not to Cosima. Just like Delphine remembered everything about her, Cosima remembered everything about Delphine. The main things were the colour of her eyes; the most beautiful eyes Cosima has ever seen. It seemed like they had a different glow every time Delphine looked at her.

Cosima took the picture frame and held it to her chest, hugging it. She stayed like that for a long time.

The house was quiet. Very quiet.


End file.
